


Prepped

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21640861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Vorik requires assistance.
Relationships: Tom Paris/Vorik
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Prepped

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“May I join you, Lieutenant?”

Tom looks up over his plate of pasta, or what Neelix _thinks_ is pasta. In reality, it’s a sloppy concoction more akin to wilted kale. Tom’s all too happy for a distraction from it, though Vorik is hardly one he would’ve expected. 

As far as Tom knows, he and Ensign Vorik have absolutely nothing in the common. But he says, “Sure,” anyway.

Vorik nods curtly and pulls out the chair across from Tom, taking a seat at the small table in the middle of the relatively vacant messhall. Vorik doesn’t have any food with him, which is probably for the best—Tom can’t recommend their latest non-synthesized option. Instead, Vorik fixes all of his attention on Tom. He straightens, hands folding together not far from Tom’s plate. He asks with perfect posture but a hushed voice, “May I discuss a matter of personal nature with you, Mr. Paris?”

“Sure,” Tom decides again, even though he has no idea what about his personal life Vorik could possibly find interesting. He’s not exactly a Vulcan role model. But while he’s at it, he adds, “And you can call me Tom.”

“Tom,” Vorik repeats. Then he leans slightly closer and whispers, “Are you aware of _pon farr_?”

Tom blinks. Somehow, he doesn’t think Vorik actually wants to know the answer to that. Tom _does_ know about it, not out of any first hand knowledge, but because it’s become a staple of inter species porn. Such thrills are difficult to come by in the Delta Quadrant, but he certainly had an interesting hard drive back home. 

He decides to spare Vorik that knowledge and instead notes, “Isn’t that something you people don’t discuss with outsiders?”

Vorik’s frown deepens. It occurs to Tom that at one point, he did have some medical training from the Doctor, and maybe Vorik wants medical advice from an organic being. Tom’s still not the right person to ask, but it makes more sense than Vorik just wanting a friendly chat about pornography.

Vorik quietly explains, “Given Voyager’s current predicament, it is unlikely I will be able to return home when my time comes. While we have a mixed crew, the majority are humans, and I must face the large possibility that I may be forced to bed a human partner.”

Tom almost quips, ‘Poor you,’ but instead does a double take and checks, “Wait... are you asking me to spend _pon farr_ with you?”

Vorik’s pale complexion stains a very subtle green. He hurriedly answers, “No.” A part of Tom slumps with relief, the rest surprising disappoint. He wasn’t _protesting_ , exactly—it was just a surprise. Vorik continues, “However, I understand that a human mate will require...” He seems to search for the right word before settling on, “Preamble.” That’s still not a good one. But Vorik rolls right on, “Thus, I wish to learn how to date.”

“To date.”

“Yes.”

Tom takes a second to digest that. Then he muses, “And I suppose everyone said to come to me for that?”

Vorik admits, “It has been suggested.”

Tom doesn’t waste time being offended.

He leans back in his chair, taking a moment to take it all in. He finally _looks_ at Vorik, really looks at him—casts a long, sweeping glance down his taut body. The uniform obscures most of it, the table hiding Vorik’s legs, but Tom can tell that Vorik’s in good shape, strong but relatively trim, not much bigger than Tom is. His handsome face is well sculpted, accentuated by his telltale Vulcan brows and the neat trim of his bowl cut. His black hair shines in the overhead light, meticulously brushed. Tom never thought of running his fingers through that before, tugging wildly and irreparably disheveling it just for the fun of things. Vorik’s cute enough. 

So Tom agrees, “Alright. I’ll pick you up after beta shift.”

Vorik lifts one of those pointed brows and reiterates, “You will lift me?”

Tom grins. Clearly, they have a long way to go. He says, “Just be ready for a good time.”

Vorik nods. Then he gets up and politely inclines his head before he leaves. Tom chews his not-pasta and tries not to think about his favourite Vulcan porno quite yet.


End file.
